


make like an onion (frogs have layers too)

by snsk



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst and Humor, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Romance, Shrek AU, harry is a princess, liam likes peasants maybe, like an actual princess, louis is a toad, niall is royal ooh, no rly an actual toad, that's a whole other story someone should be getting on, the princess and the frog - Freeform, zayn is a peasant o
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-10 23:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snsk/pseuds/snsk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining and there's a frog outside Harry's window. That wouldn't be much of a problem except it's sort of ordering Harry to let it in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. in which harry doesn't have curtains for louis to pull down

**Author's Note:**

> like the summary says mhm

"Goodnight, Father," Harry says. 

His stepfather pauses his YouTube video of a cat pulling down some curtains and yowling in surprise. "Come and see, Harry," the king says delightedly.

"You've showed me that before," Harry informs him. "Like, eight times."

"It's just really funny!" the king says. "Look how the graceful feline widens her pupils in the split second of shock before the rich red velvet crashes down upon her!"

"It _is_ really funny," Harry concedes, and watches it four more times.

 

It's been raining all night, and the drops are still pounding upon the castle's turrets and against Harry's window. Harry hums 'Pocketful of Sunshine' as he changes into his green lace pyjamas (he owns a lot of lace, he's a prince) and brushes his teeth. His goldfish bippity bops along to the tune, swishing its tail. Animals seem to do that a lot around Harry. One gets used to it.

"Open the fucking door," comes an irritated-sounding voice from outside. "Or, well. The window, it's bloody wet out here."

Harry spins in surprise, because outside the window of his tower is nothing but a huge oak tree, and nobody lives there except a family of friendly sparrows who sing High School Musial songs with him in the mornings and most certainly do not use that kind of language.

"Um?" Harry says politely. "Hello?"

"Don't be bloody rude, let a fellow in, for chrissakes."

It's definitely coming from the tree. Also that is definitely lightning Harry sees flashing bright against the stark black of his windowpane. Harry picks up the sword under his bed, almost stumbles because swords are heavy, okay, and unlatches his window.

A frog tumbles in, all wet green skin and bright amphibian eyes, bringing with it a puddle of water.

"Finally," it - he, it's a he, that voice is clear and sweet but most definitely male - grumbles, picking himself up and shaking himself off, spraying drops all over Harry's bare feet. "About time, too." He looks up at Harry.

"Oh, _fucking hell_ ," the frog says. "Put the sword down, I'm not a serial killer."

"Oh, good," Harry says, dropping the sword gratefully back under his bed. It _is_ really heavy. "Hello, you're all wet, d'you need a towel?"

"You're the royal bloody prince," the frog says. "Of course. I should've known. I mean. How else -"

He places a hind leg over his eyes and spins around dramatically.

Harry frowns. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm not okay," the frog says, muffled. "You're Prince Harry Friggin' Styles."

"I'm sorry," Harry says. "I didn't mean to be. Like."

"And now he's apologising," the frog says to no one in particular, his back still turned to Harry. "Don't be sorry, you insane person, how is it even remotely your fault?"

"You seemed upset," Harry says. He doesn't want the frog to be upset. The frog has the kind of voice like sunshine, but right now it's like watery sunshine, the sort that's straining to shine through a drizzle.

"'m upset 'cos I'm not a fucking toad, it's not you."

Harry pauses cautiously. "But you aren't a toad," he says, "you're a frog."

The frog spins around back to Harry even more dramatically. "Not the point, we aren't discussing semantics here, I'm not an amphibian at all! I'm a fucking warm blooded mammal-"

"Ooh," says Harry, "wolf? Bear? Horse?"

"-what the actual, no, I'm human! I've got human hair and human limbs and a fucking human dick and it's been gone for what thirty minutes and I miss it something terrible!"

"You don't look human," Harry says doubtfully. "You look sort of froggy."

"Perks of pissing off Simon Cowell, Warlock Lord and Dick Extraordinaire," the frog says bitterly.

"So you're a man," Harry says. He blushes. "In my room."

"I'm not about to despoil you, whatever Zayn says. Never listen to Zayn. Shit, Zayn, shit. He's probably looking for me. It's bloody raining. Can you please type out a message to Zayn. Please."

"Okay," says Harry. He pads over to his dresser.

"Your phone has pink sparkles on it, and it's trailing glitter everywhere," the frog informs him. "Just a heads up."

"Oh," says Harry, unlocking his phone. "No, it's always done that, no matter how hard I try to clean it off."

The frog dictates:

_zayn bro im good im still a frog tho but unexpected turn of events when i ran away in blind panic i ended up at castle am now in prince's bedroom before u say anYTHINg be informed that im using his phone_

Zayn replies:

_not sayin anything at all so u good for the night??_

The frog tells Harry to type:

_idk ask him_

Harry looks up. "Yes, of course you can stay," he says. "It's all wet out there!"

"It's crazy how much of an actual princess you are," the frog comments from the foot of Harry's bed, where he's lying stretched out on his back. "Thanks though, mate." 

_Hi Zayn, it's Harry, your friend's perfectly fine, except for the frog problem, and he can obviously stay the night!! Goodnight! Have sweet dreams :). xx_

**7/5/13, 10.00 p.m.** : _holy shit he wasn't kidding_

"I don't have a spare bed right now, but I can sleep on the floor," Harry says.

The frog narrows his eyes at him. "You want to give up your king sized mattress for a frog. Whose name you don't know, who is like, one hundredth its size, and who can fit in a shoebox."

"That's no way to treat a guest," Harry says, scandalised. "We can share. And, hi, I'm Harry. Styles." He reaches out a hand.

The frog mutters something about wondering how he's ended up in an honest to god fairytale with an honest to god Disney heroine, but he puts a bright green limb into Harry's palm.

"I'm Louis," he says. "Tomlinson."

"You  _are_ a Louis," Harry tells him delightedly. "It would've sucked if you'd been a Davidson."

"Okay, mate," Louis says, yawning. "Can we deal with this crap in the morning?"

"Sure," Harry agrees. "Do you want a toothbrush?"

"I don't have teeth."

"Right," Harry says, and he crawls into bed and pulls up the covers. It's really cold outside, all wind and bluster and it feels safe inside here, under the blankets. Louis is still sitting awkwardly on the edge of the mattress.

"Louis?" Harry asks.

Louis hops over to the pillow beside Harry's. He tentatively pulls the blankets over himself.

"Night, Lou," Harry says, sleepy, and he reaches out to touch Louis, to offer a little reassurance. He strokes his head.

Louis sighs. It's a little sad, and then he jumps a bit under Harry's touch. 

"I felt something furry touch my leg and I thought I was going to die," he says, "you have a bloody petting zoo of soft toy under here, how is anyone supposed to share with you? Do you not ever turn around in the middle of the night and scream in horror?"

Harry falls asleep halfway through Louis' rant, still with a hand half-curled over him. 

He wakes up in the morning with quite a lot of warm snoring boy wrapped around him. 


	2. froot loops and fo-yeahs

Harry squeezes his eyelids shut, takes a deep breath and opens his eyes again slowly. 

Still there, then.

He's never seen this boy before but he's beautiful all up close, peaceful in sleep, brown hair all mussed up and slightly damp, high defined cheekbones and mouth slightly open and emitting noises that make him sound like a faulty radiator. Or what Harry would assume a faulty radiator would sound like, he's only ever heard of them in books.

Arm curved around Harry's waist, legs tangled in between Harry's. He's very warm. Harry can't quite breathe.

The boy's eyelids flutter once, twice. His eyes, Harry manages to notice, are very blue, before he leaps in a wild frenzy out of the bed, flinging Harry onto the floor in a knot of blankets.

"Ow?" Harry says, having successfully hit his butt on the floor and his head on his dresser.

"I'm sorry!" the boy says, and Harry recognises that voice, he does, it's his - it's _the_ frog, "I was trying to jump-" he stretches out his hands and looks at them, then punches the air. "Yes. Oh god yes. Listen, I had the weirdest dream, I swear Zayn poisoned me, is that you, Zayn, no more making cocktails that wasn't a sexy sexy dream at all. Although, the last part-"

Harry pokes his head out from his coccoon of blankets.

Louis sits back down onto the bed with a thump. "Not a dream," he says, sadly. 

"I don't think so?" Harry says. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising, mate, still not your fault," Louis says absently, patting his crotch and making a satisfied sound. "Good news, anyway! All cured. Suck my dick, Cowell and his arsed Creature of the Night spell!"

Harry tries to wriggle out of his blankets. It doesn't work. He falls to the floor again.

"Oh, okay," Louis says. "Still a prince, though. Still an actual woodland creature. Here." He rolls Harry over. 

"Useless," he says, but it's fond, and the drizzle's all gone from his sunshined voice. "Why aren't you looking at me? Am I better looking as an amphibian?"

"You're only wearing a sheet," Harry mumbles. He looks away. The family of sparrows on the tree start breaking into an ill-timed rendition of Music In Me. 

"Those are actual birds," Louis says, "singing as you awake for another day, while you blush and avert your eyes because the frog you've helped transform into a man is clothed indecently in your royal bedroom."

"I didn't help you much," Harry mumbles.

"Is this the real life?" Louis asks no-one in particular, as the birds chirp na na na na in harmony. "Is this just fantasy?"

 

"Who's this, Harry?" the queen enquires. She's sitting at the breakfast table eating only the red Froot Loops.

"He's Louis Tomlinson, Mother," Harry says, kissing her good morning. "He was a frog last night, but he woke up human again."

"I see," the queen says placidly. "Did you offer him a toothbrush?"

"He had no teeth," Harry tells her. "But he brushed this morning."

"Oh, wow," Harry hears Louis mutter from behind him. Louder, he says, "Good morning, Your Majesty," and drops something that looks like a curtsey.

"Oh, god, has ickle Harry finally got a boyfriend," Gemma says from the other end of the table. "What on earth's he doing, he looks like he's having a cardiac arrest."

"Now, Gemma," Mother says. "He's a human who got turned into a frog, he spent the night."

"Did he brush his teeth?" Gemma asks. "Frogs eat flies."

"This is fifty shades of incredible," Harry hears, quiet, from behind him.

"Come and have breakfast, Louis," Mother says cheerfully.

"Oh, why not," says Louis, eyeing the maple syrupy pancakes.  

 

"We'll make sure the person who does this is punished," Mother tells Louis, pouring sauce over Louis' scrambled eggs. "And also that you will not suffer any side effects from the spell."

"Like headaches, loss of limb, accidental transportation to parallel universes," Harry adds.

"Dear god, is that a thing?" Louis asks. "That is a thing, isn't it."

The doorbell rings.

"Who might that be?" asks Mother.

Nick appears a few moments later. "'Tis a young commoner with dark smoky eyes and the cheekbones of a Greek god, Your Highness," he says. "He says he's here for a Loo-ee."

"That's my Zayn," Louis says delightedly, jumping out of the seat a bit too tall for his dangling legs and rushing to the door. 

Gemma says, "His Zayn, huh. Aw, buddy."

"It's not, I'm not," Harry says articulately. "It's not! Mother!"

" _Gemma_ ," Mother says, reading the papers.

A boy with dark smoky eyes and the cheekbones of a sculpture is dragged in by Louis. "This is Zayn," Louis announces. "Zayn, they are royal."

"No shit," says Zayn. His voice is like smoke too, curling and gritty.

"I will order a carriage to take you both home after breakfast," says Mother. "How did you travel here?"

"By bus," says Zayn.

"What is a bus?" Harry asks.

"Is he for real," Zayn whispers to Louis. "Is he taking the mickey. Because-"

"No, he's an actual Disney princess, I swear," Louis whispers back. He shakes his head at Harry, tsks in his direction, but it's not mean. It's sort of nice, the way he's smiling at Harry.

"In that case," Zayn says, eyeing the mushroom soup.

 

"D'you wanna come and see our crib?" asks Louis, nudging Harry's elbow.

Harry frowns. "You have a baby together?"

He refuses to acknowledge the swoopy feeling in his tummy as disappointment. "I'd love to see him or her," he says decisively.  

"I see what you mean, Tommo," Zayn says through a mouthful of soup.

 

The carriage draws up. Bella and Hawthorne are riding today. Thy nuzzle against Harry affectionately. Louis gapes.

"We'll be killed in our sleep," he decides. He looks at Harry, who is confused. "Our neighbourhood's kind of - they aren't really - you know what, never mind, this is lovely, Harry."

 

Harry giggles. "Why sunglasses?" he asks. "Why the beanie? I'm not cold."

"'Cos we'd rather you not be kidnapped for ransom," Louis tells him, patting him on the head with a flourish. "There. Adorable."

"Don't scare the kid," Zayn reproaches, then pauses as birds begin to sing as Harry steps out of the carriage and butterflies come out of nowhere to fly in a graceful choreographed dance around him.

"We're going to be killed in our sleep," Zayn amends.

 

Louis and Zayn's place is two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. It's very cold. Harry sees why Louis made him wear a beanie. He could also use some mittens.

"Sorry, Zayn was supposed to fix the heater," Louis says, dropping the keys onto a tiny wooden table.

"I was too busy trying to make sure you weren't _rotting_ in a _gutter_ -"

"I didn't say anything, it was a statement, not an accusation-"

"Sure sounded like one from this end-"

"That's because yours is the _angsty_ and _manpain_ end, Zayn-"

"Why is Harry standing in the hallway-"

"Harry," Louis says, "come on, buddy, sorry we forgot to invite you in from the fo-yeah."

"The fo'what?" asks Zayn.

"It's a thing, I saw it on Downton Abbey," says Louis.

Harry comes in. There are a lot of mismatched pillows and a blanket over the sofa with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZAYNIEPOO crookedly stitched onto it. There is a cereal box on the kitchen table and their fridge is making an unhealthy buzzing sound. Their curtains are red and awkwardly stitched together and a black and white cat meows happily as Harry approaches.   

Harry says, "This is-"

"Depressing?" Zayn supplies.

"The size of your bedroom?" Louis suggests.

"-comfortable," says Harry, "it's like snuggling up to a duvet with The Fray in your ears on a rainy day, all familiar and comfortable and homey, and Fantine loves it, even if he's all cranky all the time."

Louis and Zayn look at each other. There's a pause. Louis's got that fond look again, when he turns back to Harry.

"How do you know my cat's name?" asks Zayn.

"He told me," says Harry. "I'd better be going? If you two are alright."

"We're good, mate," Zayn says. "Thanks for dealing with Louis' shit, alright? You're welcome here anytime."

 

"So listen," Louis says, running down the steps after Harry. His cheeks are flushed from the steps he's jogged down. He's beautiful. He really is. "Thank you, you didn't have to put me up and everything, you're a really good kid, you know that?"

"'m not a kid," Harry mumbles.

"You're what, nineteen. Still a wee babe," Louis says, pinching his cheek affectionately. "You will come to visit, you haven't tried Zayn's brownies yet and I haven't stitched you something awful to show my utmost gratitude."

Harry smiles.

"If you want," Louis adds, and tucks a stray curl under Harry's beanie. He waves as Bella and Hawthorne trot away. 

 

The sick swooping feeling in Harry's tummy is back. It feels a lot like sadness. Harry lies on his bed and listens to the sparrows chorus Gotta Go My Own Way.

 

   
 **5:29 p.m.:** Niall? Are you awake?

 **5:30 p.m.:** Its 5:30 pm yeh Im awake

 **5.31 p.m.:** I think I'm sad :(

 **5.32 p.m.:**  there is something fundamentally wrog with that sentence

 **5.33 p.m.:** haz u ok??

 **5.33 p.m.:** harry louis is a frog again and he's bein a right arse the spell is not fixed is there anything that can b done im on the verge of wringing his slimy neck  
      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i adore each and every kudos/comment i received you guys are perf ok and as soon as bio stops being a bitch i'll tell each and every one of you individually how amazin u r
> 
> niall and liam coming soon!!


	3. being a peasant doesn't give me esteedees (god)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> introducing niall!! liam!! and zayn sticking up for his bff's honour!! kinda!!

"The boy with eyes like dusky skies and the facial structure Michaelangelo created is back, Your Highness," announces Nick grandly. "He's brought a toad with him."

"Frog," comes Louis' distinctly annoyed voice from the doorway. "Frog, not toad, get it right, you bequiffed idjit."

"Let them in, Nick," Harry says.

Nick lets them in. Zayn's wearing a faded leather jacket and pyjama pants and he's cupping Louis in his hands. Louis is a bright emerald frog again, and looking as irritated about it as it is possible for an amphibian to look. His eyes are slitted and his front legs are crossed.

"It's not cured," Harry says, upset.

"Oh, fifty points to Gryffindor, Styles!" Louis says. "Thank you so much for that, that ought to fix it right-"

"Lou," Zayn says warningly.

Louis sighs and hops out of Zayn's hands over to the table where Harry's sitting. "Didn't mean it, kid," he says, nuzzling Harry's right thumb in a sort of apology. "This kind of sucks, you know."

"I know, Louis," Harry says. "We're going to fix this, I promise."

Louis does a head tilt like he wants to, but he doesn't quite believe Harry. Which sucks, because Harry knows he's going to fix this, the clouds are back in Louis' voice and he needs them gone.

The queen sweeps in. "I have talked to our physicist and sorceror," she says, "they have come to the conclusion that a Creature of the Night spell has been placed on you."

"I knew that," Louis says. "Cowell told me that in between cursing me out and the gobbledygook of his magicky words."

"Well, didn't you know that this would happen?" the queen asks. "That at night, you would turn into this creature?"

"I thought it was a one night thing," Louis protests.

"Not everything is a _one night thing_ , Louis," Zayn coughs discreetly into his brown leather sleeve. Louis turns and glares daggers at him.

"So how do we make it better?" Harry asks his mom.

"True love's kiss," she says. "Obviously. It is the cure for all evils."

Zayn chokes into his sleeve with laughter. 

"I don't have a true love," Louis snaps.

"Everybody has a true love," Harry says, wide-eyed. "What you mean is that you haven't found yours yet."

"Whatever you say, Haz," Louis says. "I however am not going to stand around waiting for him or her to arrive if they aren't going to be punctual about it. Is there any other way?"

The queen sighs. "Finding the sorceror and making him lift the spell."

There's a knock on the door.

"Oh, maybe that's him now," Louis says snarkily. 

" _Louis_ ," Zayn and Harry say in tandem. Zayn sounds annoyed. Harry is reproachful, but he rubs his thumb against Louis' head to show that he knows Louis doesn't mean it, he's just upset.

Nick announces, "Sir Niall Horan and Sir Liam Payne, m'lady."

Niall rushes in, blond hair mussed, followed by Liam at his heels, eyebrows furrowed, and says: "Haz you're alive, you didn't answer your phone and you typed a sad face I thought something was seriously wrong so I called Liam but you're alive!"

"Incredible. This is the kind of friend I need, Zaynie," Louis informs him. "Take note."

"I brought you here across the city-"

"I was just telling you what good friends Niall Horan and Liam Payne are to Harry-"

"While you threw a tantrum and had multiple panic attacks and insulted me and my hair and my cheekbones-"

"You seem okay, Haz," Liam concludes, he and Niall having rushed over to Harry, wrestled him to the ground,  and conducted a thorough physical checkup on him. "Is it internal? Is it the frog? Did it poison you?"

Both Louis and Zayn bristle at this.

"No, Louis didn't-" protests Harry.

"I'll have you know-" snaps Louis.

"Just because we're, what, peasants," snarls Zayn, "doesn't give you the right to make assumptions about us. We aren't vermin. I don't know about Louis' STDs being fixed yet, but he sure as hell didn't poison the prince. He goddamn thinks the sun shines out of his-"

"Zayn," Louis says cheerfully, "I get that you're defending my honour and everything, but now would be a good time to shhhhhhh, before I stab you in the foot."

Liam is looking at Zayn for the first time. Harry sees his jaw drop. Which Harry understands. Zayn is lovely. Not like Louis' open brilliant beautiful rays, but dusky-smoke and velvet lovely.

"I- apologise," Liam says after a moment. "I assure you, I was merely concerned about Harry's wellbeing, I meant no disrespect."

"Oh," Zayn says. "Well. Then. Okay." He ceases glaring at Liam and subsides into a chair.

Liam continues staring at him and pretending not to.

"I was just sad," says Harry. "No poison, I promise, or Esteedees. What are Esteedees?" 

"Why were you sad?" asks Louis quickly and interestedly.

"Why are you a toad?" Niall says fascinatedly.

"Frog," Harry and Louis correct at the same time.

"Simon Dickwell," Louis says. "And now I've got to find this arse and beg him to give my own dick back at night?"

The queen nods placidly, unperturbed by their insignificant hijinks. Harry asks, "Do you know where he lives?"

"L.A," Zayn says. "Land of the rich and famous and evil."

"Well, then," Louis sighs. "Hopping off the plane at LAX it is, then. With a dream in my cardigan."

"I'm coming with you," Harry says.

Louis looks up at him. His eyes aren't blue when he's a frog, they're black. Harry can still see Louis in them, but he misses the blue already, even though he's known Louis-the-frog longer. "Kid, you don't have to-"

"I'm going to fix this, I told you," Harry says, frowning. "I'm not a child, Louis."

Louis sighs. "You're not a child, Harry."

"In that case, I am following," Niall announces, rising. "I will follow Harry to the ends of the earth."

"As will I," Liam declares, getting up.

"Well, I kind of have to, then," Zayn says from where he's slouching into the chair. "Bloody peer pressure."

"Aw, Zaynie poo," Louis says. "That warms the cockles of my heart." He's leaning into Harry's hand, though, and trying not to smile, Harry can see.

"I'll book a flight!" the queen announces. "Harry, darling, remind me to pack your motion sickness pills." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again all of you who wrote something nice are the wind underneath my wings


	4. welcome to the land of fame excess am i gonna fit in

"Be good, sweetheart," Mother says, holding Harry close. "White powder isn't always sparkles, sometimes it's dangerous."

Gemma saunters by. "So long, bro," she says. "When you get back I want to hear all the dirty details."

"I, Mother, stop her," Harry says desperately, but he can already feel Louis hiding a smirk at his side. Louis is back human, wearing a hoodie of Harry's which is slightly too big for him, sleeves hanging down past his fingers, which Harry finds almost unbearably adorable, and lacy tights, which he had protested against, but it was either that or silk pants, there being nothing else in Harry's wardrobe.

"Make sure you meet Viva!" the king calls. "She's the one who caught the lizard and made it her friend!"

The sparrows sing Summertime as the carriage leaves. Louis hums along as he clambers in after Harry.

"What are you wearing," Zayn says resignedly, already in the carriage.

"It was either this or silk maroon," Louis says. "And at least the tights show off the incredible curve of my arse."

 

"Where are we?" Louis asks as they pull up in front of a huge white mansion, tiny rosebushes littering the driveway and the immaculate garden.

"Liam's house," Harry says. "We're picking him and Niall up, remember?"

Zayn snorts. "I don't see why they've got to come with us, Lou's not their problem." He leans back and watches Niall run out with a backpack and leap into the carriage.

"Hi!" Niall says, jumping on Harry, all bright white flash of teeth and energy. "Hi Louis, you have really nice eyes, hi Zayn, hi Zayn I missed you."

"Have we even been introduced yet?" Zayn asks, but he doesn't sound grumpy. It's hard to sound grumpy around Niall.

Liam gets into the carriage. Behind him Harry can see his butler struggling with three heavy-looking bags.

"Where're you going then?" Louis enquires.

"It's best to be prepared," Liam says defensively.

"Of course it is," Zayn says snidely - Liam seems to bring out that side in him - and they ride off to Louis and Zayn's neighbourhood.

 

"We're late because Zayn couldn't find his fourth bottle of hair product and his extra mirror," Louis announces, getting in and pushing Niall aside so he can sit next to Harry again. "Sorry 'bout that."  
   
They continue on to the airport, Liam's bags clattering against each other behind their seats.

 

"Passport, please," and Louis hands over his. The woman smiles at him, goes through it and returns it. "Haz," he says.

"No, he's good," the woman says, smiling blindingly at Harry and letting them pass.

"How does that work?" Louis asks incredulously, pushing at Harry's shoulder with his. "I mean, did she even know you were the prince? She just let you through, it was ridiculous, has anyone ever told you no in your entire life, kid?"

Harry thinks about it for a moment. "My dad did," he says, "when I asked him to stay."

"...oh," Louis says. He curls a hand into Harry's hair, another one of his kind-of apologies. "Way to make a guy feel like crap, Styles."

Harry blinks. "Don't feel bad," he says. "It wasn't mean or anything."

"Still," Louis says. "C'mon, I'll make it up to you, babe, let me get you some Skittles." 

 

"Please don't tell me you've never been to an airport before," Louis says, watching Harry watch the huge roaring planes go by with fascination. They're sitting at their departure hall, and Zayn's taken out a book, and Liam is looking at him and telling Niall in hisses that he isn't, and Louis had put earbuds in and Harry had thought he hadn't been paying attention until then.

"I've never been on a plane before," Harry tells him, which isn't quite never being at an airport before. Louis stares, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

"Not even a private jet? You're a prince, don't you have holidays in Malibu and shi- stuff?"

"We never found the need to?" Harry says. The afternoon sun slants a hot line across Louis. He frowns in annoyance and pushes up closer against Harry where the sun won't warm him uncomfortably. "Take holidays, or leave, I mean."

"I'm - I'm taking away your airginity," Louis says. "Amazing. Who would've thought, eh."

Harry blushes.

"Aw, kid," Louis says, looking delighted at the flush on Harry's cheekbones. "But seriously, though. Your mom's just gonna let you jet off to the land of the free like that? The national treasure? The apple of the kingdom's eye? The slender sweet green-eyed fruit of their loins?" 

"Paul's here," Harry says. He twists around until he can see Paul, half hidden behind a newspaper and dressed in an unassuming plaid shirt, and waves wildly. Paul nods at him and gestures something that probably means stop waving wildly, I'm supposed to be unassuming.

"I swear he wasn't there when we sat down," Louis says. "Like. And I would've seen him walk across the room. Well. I guess I'm glad that the future of the kingdom isn't entrusted wholly to me, at any rate, didn't have quite enough jujitsu and muay thai in my upbringing. I'm satisfied with your airginity. You'll remember me your whole life, kid." He drops a wink at Harry, grinning.

Harry says, quiet: "I know I will," and meets Louis' eyes steadily, because he means every word, until Louis coughs and looks away.

 

The airplane is noisy and rumbly, especially when it starts to move.

"Oh god, I'm going to die," Harry can hear Liam say from the aisle seat beside him, and then Zayn's answering snort and Niall's not very helpful "Li, look at how fast we're going!" from the window.

"Haz?" Louis says, when the plane starts rising and Harry's hands are gripping the armrests tightly and his eyes are clenched shut. "Harry, it's okay, look at me, c'mon."

Harry opens his eyes and looks at Louis, smiling so wide his face hurts. 

"We're flying, Lou," he informs him, awestruck. "Look, we're so heavy, and we're flying like Barbara and Walter and Esme and Laura and Jason!"

"Birds of yours?" Louis suggests.

"Sparrows," agrees Harry.

"You're something else, kid," Louis decides, and tells Zayn to stop being an arse and get Liam a paper bag, look at the guy. 

 

The rest of the flight goes like this:

The first hour Liam retches into the paper bag Niall holds out for him. Zayn, surprisingly, mutters that it's going to be alright, wipes a bit of vomit on his cheek and produces motion sickness tablets out of nowhere. Then lunch is served and it's lasagna and it's terrible and Louis passes over his broccoli and carrots to Harry when Harry's not looking. Liam forgoes lunch because it's the same colour as what he threw up thirty minutes ago and orders Niall to pull down the blinds because of the hot afternoon sun so Niall has to stop gazing at the clouds in awe. He's then abruptly bored and suggests that they play Truth and Dare. Except that there're not many dares one can do on a plane so they end up finding out that Zayn once made out with his history teacher behind the bleachers, Niall has flashed a visiting dignitary, Louis dressed up as a mascot and stormed an ex's party, Liam got rejected 22 times by the same girl and Harry - 

"Unbelievable," Louis says. "Not one single dirty detail? With a face like that. Nope. Not believable. At all."

"Once a girl kissed me," Harry says. He thinks for a bit. "It was nice, but she left for Australia. And once my violin teacher gave me his number. Is that a dirty detail? He was forty two years old." 

"He's Harry," Liam says, like this explains everything.

\- well, and then they settle down and watch Captain America because it's on and Harry falls asleep on Louis' shoulder because he's had a lot of excitement today and he wakes up with a jolt when his head falls with a sudden jerk and he turns to see the sun's setting rays and Louis-the-frog sitting resignedly in Louis' seat. The stewardess comes over and informs Louis that he's still got to be strapped in even if he is a frog and Louis looks like he's on the verge of a major upset but Harry smiles at her and says it's okay, he'll hold Louis. So Louis just scowls at her and hops into Harry's palms, and they spend the rest of the plane ride with Niall telling them a long winded story about a French restaurant he'd been looking for since he was fourteen and is now convinced was magical since he's never found it since.  
 

 

The plane finally touches down. Louis yells from Harry's shoulder as they walk down onto solid ground again: "So I put my hands up THEY PLAYIN' MY SONG- Zayn!"     
   
"Nodding my head like yeah," Zayn supplies dutifully, watching Liam struggle with his two heavy backpacks. "Jesus, just- here." 

"Thank you," Liam says, wide-eyed.

Harry can feel Louis rolling his eyes from his shoulder. "Harry, mate, don't leave a fellow hanging."

"Moving my hips like yeah," Harry sings helpfully, and Louis makes a sort of movement near Harry's face which ends up with him nearly falling off and having to hang on to the collar of Harry's red shirt for support.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, cradling him gently back.

"That - was a thrust," Louis explains. "Didnt translate as well as it would've on two feet."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sigh as usual this is less funny than it's supposed to be i
> 
> also idk how ziam happened either


End file.
